


Friends with Backup

by Polyhexian



Series: Okay but what if they were ace tho [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Cyclonus, Asexual Character, Cyclonus and whirl are amica, Good ending timeline, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: "I'll talk to him," Whirl said, setting his claws on his hips, "He ain't figured out a way to stop me prying all his secrets out of him kickin' and screamin' yet.""Primus, you make it sound so gruesome," Tailgate shook himself out again, drenching the dock in another spray of oil."It's a gruesome job, but somebody's gotta do it," Whirl nodded. "Leave it to Whirlibird then, eh?"
Relationships: Cyclonus & Whirl (Transformers), Cyclonus/Tailgate (Transformers)
Series: Okay but what if they were ace tho [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772830
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120





	Friends with Backup

"Listen, I know you're _his_ Amica and not _mine_ , but-"

"Amica shmamica," Whirl snorted, throwing another hunk of metal over the oil reservoir as hard as he could, watching as the resident scraplet dragon leapt from the water to snap it in her jaws, "Not a single one of us knows how to be normal. Hit me, legs."

"You've been in like, relationships before, right?" Tailgate fretted, kicking his legs just over the surface of the oil, leaning back on the edge of the dock. 

"Uhhh," Whirl tilted his helm, "Not serious ones."

"Well- still. What were they like? If they weren't serious." 

Whirl tapped at his helm in thought, "You want the pretty version or the honest version?"

"Is that code for 'talking about this is going to upset me but I'm going to do it anyway because I'm Whirl and I like causing myself emotional distress because I have a deep seated martyr complex?'"

"No, it's code for 'don't call me out like that, smartaft,'" Whirl grumbled, throwing another piece of metal over the oil, "It's not that bad. It just ain't pretty."

"Nothing about _either_ of us is pretty, Whirl."

"Alright, _now_ who's bein' self destructive?" Whirl side-eyed the minibot, unimpressed, "A'ight. I guess I dated a couple times before the ol' hammer fell," he said, snipping his claws to make his point clear, "But they wasn't too serious. You know, met another guy who wasn't diggin' his function, same as me- he was forged in the artisan class, s'posed to make statues and stuff, but he wanted to be a navigator, on starships and all. Someone gave him my name, wantin' to know how I jimmied the odds and got out of the Aerial Corps, and one thing led to another, and we fooled around for awhile. We didn't have nothin' in common, though, other than bein' unhappy with our lots. Eventually he shipped off world, and I didn't hear from again. I like to hope he got on one of them starships like he wanted, but, I never found out."

Tailgate watched him, leaned back against the deck, posture casual but frame tense, a dichotomy that said everything he needed to hear. Sparky raised her head above the oil and chirped impatiently, and Whirl threw her another pipe from the refuse box they'd brought with them.

"And after?" 

Whirl let out a full frame sigh through his vents, "Ugh. After was a mess. I fooled around a bit before I met Kroma, you know, work wasn't easy to come by, and- and, well. And then once the war started," Whirl swirled a claw dismissively through the air, "Then it was real casual stuff, you know, blowin' off steam and whatever. I figure I wasn't too _romantically_ tangled up in no one, but I had _agreements_ , you get me? Arrangements. I figure that's a _kind_ of relationship, if that makes sense."

"That makes sense," Tailgate agreed, nodding.

"So what's your angle then? I'd already figured this was about him if you were talking to _me_ about it."

Tailgate paused, visor flickering in thought, "Do I really only talk to you when it's about him?" 

"Only if you're with him or if it's about him," Whirl responded, without looking at him, turning to grab another piece of metal from the bin, "It's fine. I get it."

"...I didn't realize I was doing that," Tailgate mumbled, "I'm sorry, Whirl. That's really unfair of me."

"Like I said, it's cool," Whirl said, pitching the metal into the reservoir, "I get it."

"It's not cool," Tailgate pulled his legs up under him, crossing them and hiking his shoulders up, "That's really shitty of me. We're friends. We should hang out more without Cyclonus."

"If you wanna," Whirl shrugged, kicking his legs in the oil, "You still got somethin' on your mind, though. May as well spill it."

Tailgate leaned forward, hands on his ankles, "I think something is _wrong_. Like, we've interfaced a couple times now, yeah?"

"Yeah?"

"But I get the feeling something is _off_. Like, he's super hesitant, and I don't know if he's like, worried about hurting me, or if _I'm_ doing something wrong, or what, but he _hesitates_. And then I'm like, Cyclonus, if you don't wanna do anything we don't have to do anything! And he gets all stiff and grumbly and he's like no, no, grr, it's fine, I want to."

"Yeah that sounds like him," Whirl rolled his optic, "Emotionally constipated bastard."

"So what do _you_ think?" Tailgate asked, "What should I do?" 

"Honestly, I don't think you sho- hey! Hey, give him back!" Whirl scrambled to his pedes as a bored Sparky burst from the surface of the oil in front of the dock, snagged Tailgate by the leg and dragged him under.

Sparky resurfaced, holding Tailgate upside down and giving Whirl petulant optics and muffled, displeased chittering. 

"Whirl, oh god, Whirl, is she going to-"

"Hey! You know better than that, you put him down or I'm throwing all the copper I brought in the smelter, you hear me!" Whirl chided, pointing at the scraplet colony. She squeaked, and ducked back under the oil, along with the minibot, before climbing back up to the dock to drop him, sputtering and scrambling away. 

Whirl grabbed a copper pipe and pet the little beast along her spinal strut as she head-butted his side, demanding attention. He threw the pipe as far as he could over the reservoir and she dove back in with a yip. "Go on, then, you naughty little bastard! Go get it!" 

Tailgate coughed up oil, dripping all over the place as he struggled to sit up, "Primus, oh my god, was she going to _eat_ me?!"

"Oh, she wasn't gonna _eat_ you," Whirl scoffed, picking the minibot up and tilting him forward to dump oil out of his back plate, "She's just bored, Riptide ain't come down to swim with her all week." 

"Uh, okay," Tailgate wheezed, pedalling his legs to try and right himself in Whirl's grip before he was set back down, "Okay, okay, but, Cyclonus, though? What were you gonna say about Cyclonus?" 

"Huh? Oh, right," Whirl fished another piece of copper tubing out of the bin and threw it, "I was gonna say he's almost _definitely_ lying out his aft. If he says somethin's fine it's basically never actually fine."

"That's what I thought!" Tailgate cried, "I don't know how to get him to _tell me_ what it is, though!" 

"I'll talk to him," Whirl said, setting his claws on his hips, "He ain't figured out a way to stop me prying all his secrets out of him kickin' and screamin' yet."

"Primus, you make it sound so gruesome," Tailgate shook himself out again, drenching the dock in another spray of oil. 

"It's a gruesome job, but somebody's gotta do it," Whirl nodded. "Leave it to Whirlibird then, eh?" 

Tailgate fidgeted uncertainly, "Don't be _mean_ to him, Whirl. He's _sensitive_ even if he likes to pretend he isn't."

"Aw, come on, pipsqueak, I know that," Whirl rolled his optic and grabbed another pipe, handing it to Tailgate, "Here, toss her this one, she's gotta learn to respect you as a bringer of food if you want her to stop thinkin' she can just yoink ya." 

* * *

"Ooh, we're feeling _particularly_ broody today, aren't we?" Whirl whistled, leaning against the door and crossing his arms over his cockpit.

Cyclonus looked back at him from where he was seated at the guidance terminal with a face that read as deeply unamused, "I am working."

"No you ain't," Whirl snorted, "You got off rotation twenty kliks ago." 

"I've not been relieved." 

Whirl leaned back into the hallway and dragged Misfire into the doorway. "Wow, look at who was just waiting in the hallway playing Tetris this whole time." 

Misfire shrugged, grinning, "Can you blame me?" 

"Go do your job, tagalong," Whirl said, shoving him into the navigation hub, and Cyclonus sighed, rising from his seat. 

"Very well. What is it you want?" 

"Come on! Take me sparring, big bot." 

"I suppose I could use the exercise," Cyclonus admitted with a huff, "It's been a long day watching monitors." 

"Ooh, are these the upper deck canons?" Misfire asked, pointing at an array of extremely pushable buttons.

"Don't push those," said Cyclonus.

"Yup! Go nuts, buddy," Whirl said at the same time, ushering Cyclonus out of the room with him and heading off towards the upper deck gym. 

"Is there something to this impromptu invitation?" Cyclonus inquired, falling in step beside his Amica, "Is there something on your mind?"

"Hrrm?" Whirl hummed, crossing his arms behind his head, " _My_ mind?" 

"Yes, _your_ mind," Cyclonus scoffed, "Your attempts at pretending you don't have feelings fall short when you're in one of your _moods_. Is something wrong?" 

"...Nah," Whirl answered, leaning back as they arrived at the elevator, "I'm here for the usual shtick."

"Hm," Cyclonus grunted, "Are we actually going to get to spar?"

"I mean, I was plannin' on kickin' your aft and then prying it out of you when you were too tired to argue, but if you're in a good enough mood to just answer my questions for once, it totally frees up my schedule."

The elevator dinged and Whirl dropped his arms, stepping inside and leaning against the back wall. Cyclonus hesitated, before joining him. 

"I won't fight you," he said, after the elevator began to move, "Go ahead."

"So what's wrong with your sex life, eh?"

Cyclonus wheezed, jerking his shoulders tight, sputtering on words, before he leaned forward and jammed the stop elevator button, glaring daggers.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

Whirl looked up at the ceiling when the red emergency light came on and the elevator shuddered to a halt, "Alright, you better tell Minimus _you_ did that, cuz I'm already in trouble for last week's incident."

"Whirl!"

"Come on, you heard me. Your junxy wants to know why you're getting all weird about interface, weird enough he asked _me_ about it," Whirl crossed his arms, "You said you wasn't gonna make me fight you."

"You can't just _ask_ someone about their-"

"Too late!" Whirl singsonged, leaning forward. 

"Unbelievable," Cyclonus hissed, "Is _nothing_ sacred to you?"

"Uh, no."

"I am _not_ interested in discussing that with _you_ ," Cyclonus answered, standing straight again, crossing his arms, as if in response to Whirl already having done so.

"You really are gonna make me fight you, huh?" Whirl groaned, "Fine, let's make this soooo uncomfortable you just give up. Ahem," he cleared his throat and stood straighter, as if about to deliver an important speech, "Is it equipment compatibility? Are you too big for him? Is it a preference thing, like you're both miserable bottoms and no one wants to top? Do you _actually_ keep a stick lodged up your aft at all times and it's getting in the way? Do you have a foot fetish you don't want to admit and-"

"Primus, please stop, please, please stop," Cyclonus snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose between his shuttered optics, "It's nothing so scandalous as you want it to be."

Whirl stared at him for a moment, dilating his optic in thought, before he turned back toward the door with a shrug. "Bad memories?" He hazarded, after a moment, voice softer. 

"In a way," Cyclonus admitted, finally, keeping his optics equally trained on the door, "They all are."

"So you ain't never had a good lay," Whirl huffed, "That your hold up?" 

"It's more than that."

"Oh yeah?"

"It's-" Cyclonus hesitated, sighed, "It is not my favourite pastime."

"So don't do it, man," Whirl shrugged, "Easy as that."

"Hardly," Cyclonus groaned, rubbing his temple in frustration, "That's not particularly fair to _him_ , now is it?" 

"Course it is. Nobody dies from a lack of sex," Whirl snorted, "Your junxy ain't the type I suspect gets too excited about the idea of layin' an unwillin' partner."

"I'm not _unwilling._ "

"Hate to break it to you, Cyc, but I don't think this is one of those things you can just _will_ yourself to like."

Cyclonus was silent for a moment. "I don't like the idea of not being able give him this." 

"You ain't a vessel of fulfillment, buddy. Can't just dedicate yourself to being what somebody else wants. You're just gonna have to deal with the cards you been dealt." 

Cyclonus stated at the floor, "And if he realizes someone else could provide him more than I can?"

Whirl finally turned his head to stare at his Amica, glaring holes into the floor as best he could, looking surprisingly vulnerable, "And then nothin'. He ain't leavin' your sorry aft over that if he ain't left you yet." 

"Thank you for the assurance. It was very comforting," Cyclonus spat.

"He's not leaving you just cuz you don't wanna fuck him," Whirl repeated, rolling his optics, "Dumbaft. He _will_ leave you if you keep pretending you don't hate it though and puttin' him in a position where he knows he's _forcing_ you to do something you don't wanna." 

Cyclonus winced. 

"Thought so," Whirl nodded, "Shitty position to put someone you care about in."

"I know you're right," Cyclonus sighed, tension finally going out of his shoulders as he sagged, "I just wish you weren't."

"Not the first time."

Cyclonus unfolded his arms, laying them flat palmed against the wall at his sides, staring at the ground before he turned to the only other occupant in the elevator. "Thank you. You are… a good friend, Whirl." 

Whirl shrugged, "Eh, we didn't do Amica rites for nothin'."

"...Did you actually have something you wanted your schedule free for, or would you like to go sparring, anyway?" Cyclonus hazarded after a moment. Whirl twitched, winglets fluttering in thought.

"I could go for a match," Whirl admitted after a moment, "If you still wanna hang out with me."

"Of course I do," Cyclonus started, before the elevator panel crackled to life.

"If you two are getting weird in there I'm going to leave you," Rodimus's voice came over the staticcy commline, "That thing was _just_ cleaned."

"The longer you leave us in here, the weirder it gets!" Whirl snapped.

"Whirl-"

"It gets filthier by the moment, Rodimus," Cyclonus said, gravely. 

"Primus, fine, I'm unlocking it, hang on-"

Whirl swiveled his head towards his Amica before he folded over, laughing. Cyclonus chuckled along, before the elevator emergency lights clicked off and it began slowly moving again.

**Author's Note:**

> Me crumpin around da fandom making every character gay ace because I'm a predictable fuck with no regrets
> 
> I'm whirlibirb on Tumblr! Feel free to come yell at me about robots


End file.
